


What Have I Done?

by Kahtya Sofia (KahtyaSofia)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Children of Earth Compliant, Gen, Last Author Standing - jack&ianto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-28
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KahtyaSofia/pseuds/Kahtya%20Sofia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack gives Ianto a terrible gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Have I Done?

Jack strode into the building like he owned it. He was a hero again. They’d tried to silence him, then turned to him, again, in the darkest hour. He’d saved them, because he’d had to.

And he’d lost everything.

He was getting one thing back. They _all_ owed him that much.

Police, SAS, Royal Marines; none of them tried to stop Jack. They stood by and watched him pass.

It wasn’t until he reached the bodies; laid out, silent and unmoving, that UNIT tried to prevent him from taking Ianto’s body.

Rhiannon had been notified. She was coming to claim Ianto. She was family, and Ianto was hers to look after.

No one could stand against him when he raged at them, pulled Ianto’s lifeless form into his arms. No one _wanted_ to stand between Jack and his intentions, after what they’d witnessed.

Agent Johnson stood blocking the exit door. Jack didn’t break stride. She’d gone against him and lost, already. He didn’t think she was a fool.

Jack reached the door and Johnson tugged it open, holding it for him to pass through. He nodded his thanks, silently acknowledging … everything. She returned it in kind.

Jack gently slid Ianto into the back of hire van he’d nicked just for this. The car park he’d selected for this mission was just minutes away.

He parked in the center of deserted level. The city was slow to recover, and Jack used that to his advantage. He opened the rear doors to the hire van, then strode several yards away.

From his coat pocket, Jack pulled the device he’d forced UNIT to hand over. He hit the buttons in a specific sequence, then tossed it onto the concrete, several feet away. If the response took more than a minute or two, the thing was going to overload.

Whirring and grinding sounded within seconds. Jack smiled grimly. He’d known a spacial/temporal disturbance of that type would attract the right attention. He ground the device under the heel of his boot.

The blue police box materialized and fell silent. The door burst open and the Doctor stepped out. His expression was dark, his lips pressed to a thin line. He buried his hands in the pockets of his brown pin-stripe suit trousers, and rocked back on the heels of his battered trainers.

“I assume that was you, trying to call?” he asked.

“Clever boy, aren’t you,” Jack rejoined. “Where’s your companion?”

“Visiting family in Cheswick. You’ve things well in hand here, Jack, what’s this all about?”

“So, you know what happened? What I had to do?” Jack knew the answer but he wanted the Doctor to _admit_ it.

“All of it,” he confirmed, as unapologetic as always.

Jack turned and pulled Ianto’s body over his shoulder. He turned toward the TARDIS.

“Is that …?” the Doctor’s expression was stricken, and he didn’t finish.

“Yes, it’s Ianto,” Jack answered through clenched teeth.

“He was a brave lad, Jack. He died well.”

Jack drove a fist into the Doctor’s gut, then up into his jaw. When he stumbled backward, Jack pressed his advantage and tore open the TARDIS door. He locked it behind him.

He felt her. Jack could feel her through the soles of his boots. She wrapped around him, like a full-body caress. She was a part of him, and he of her.

Jack laid Ianto on the floor near the TARDIS console. The desperate pleading of the Doctor, the angry pounding on the door, was drowned out by the grinding whir of the TARDIS as the Vortex stirred.

Jack pulled on the grate, and it came up easily. The harsh glow of the Vortex rose up to envelope him, warm and welcoming.

Ianto had given so much in his short life. He’d sacrificed more than most and had asked Jack for little in return. Jack would give him this; this one last gift.

He knelt beside Ianto’s still form, and realized he didn’t know what to do. Rose had _been_ the Vortex, and had willed it.

Jack started as a hand closed over his wrist. He readied to turn into the Doctor, to beat him back, when his hand was moved to press against Ianto’s chest. The Doctor grasped his other hand and moved it toward the swirling Vortex that was spilling upward from the floor of the TARDIS.

“A conduit, Jack,” the Doctor shouted, “use your connection to the Vortex as a conduit for him.”

Jack plunged his hand into the white heat of the Time Vortex. The swirling spark of power, that he always felt burning deep inside of himself, flared and roared through him. It hurt, in the same way it hurt when he came, buried inside of Ianto’s body.

The Vortex flashed blindingly. Jack swayed on his knees, barely aware of the Doctor falling backward onto the floor. Silence smothered them, abrupt and stunning.

Ianto gasped loudly, sucking in a great lungful of air. Jack watched him, stunned, as he turned to his side and heaved hard, hacking coughs.

What had he done? That resurrecting gasp, so like his own, drove straight through Jack’s heart. He’d wanted to give Ianto one last gift, to give back to him, for all that he’d given to Jack.

He’d condemned Ianto to the same unending, unrelenting existence that was his own curse.

“What have I done?” the Doctor echoed Jack’s thoughts mournfully. “What has _she_ done?”

Ianto was on his knees now, Jack ran his hands soothingly over his back, seeking absolution, as much as giving comfort.

“You’ve endured so much, Jack,” the Doctor’s tone was pleading, “I wanted to give you something to ease your burden. You wanted this so desperately, she could feel your need and your desolation.”

Jack wondered if the TARDIS could feel guilt. Certainly the Doctor could.

“This is wrong. This is so wrong,” the Doctor whispered.

The only answer was the sound of Ianto’s harsh breathing.


End file.
